


Arduous

by ancientwinters



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: AoTS ignored for too much data I wouldn't be able to squeeze here, Erik Selvig is amazing, Extremis Pepper Potts, F/M, Gen, Iron Man 3 Compliant, Loki being a Prometheus, M/M, Magic and Science, Magic is Science even, Marvel Norse Lore, archaic cussing, but Fitz did manage to find his way to the Tower anyway, with a tiny little slice of frozen pizza
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-31
Updated: 2014-12-31
Packaged: 2018-03-03 17:04:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2858348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ancientwinters/pseuds/ancientwinters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony can’t fix Pepper’s Extremis. Yet this time he doesn't let desperation destroy him. Instead he finds out that brilliance is often not enough, yet it doesn't determine his worth exclusively either. He takes a lesson of cooperation, loyalty and not just asking right questions, but also listening to answers.<br/>Loki doesn't really need to be persuaded to help, just makes the best of a bad situation on his own terms and obviously, with his own agenda. He pulls his ultimate trick, screwing fate in the eye with a stick someobody else's holding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Turmoil

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Severa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Severa/gifts).



> This story is a part of FrostironFest 2014, request **#12** prompt **#1.**  
>  I hope it's not something completely different from what you expected, dear ~~still~~ _no longer_ anonymous giftee - but Extremis!Pepper is way too awesome to be treated merely as a decoration (and too awesome in general either).  
>  Many thanks to **strayalchemist** for being a wonderful beta, provider of tons of archaic curses and for constant support :)  
>  The title doesn't really come from [this fantastic mix](https://8tracks.com/thrandy/arduous) but it helped a lot to find the right mood, so thank you, you amazing person who made it.  
> Happy Yule, everyone!
> 
> EDIT: Yeah, I totally knew who's that for! :]

Waking up in a world surrounded by flames  
Where everything I liked is about to fade  
How could you be the one if you're not the same  
If in the hands of gods you have lost your way  
\- Woodkid, " _Ghost Lights_ "

  
 **I - Turmoil**

  
Fireworks would never be the same again. Not something Tony barely noticed, someting harmless and sometimes even pretty. Different from whistling bullets and glow of explosions and melting metal and unclear feeling of something going very wrong, so many years ago, when there were no cages yet. Or rather, he was still stubbornly denying their existence.

There was something vaguely disturbing in the fact that people considered things going off loudly entertaining. He did, too, once. The only association he had left now was his life going totally fubar _again_ , after a series of pretty impressive somersaults, with him being unable to do antyhing about it.

Trapped, that's how he'd describe his current situation. Like, still in a cage but with a twist. There was this old, black-and white movie in which a guy said something like this... about being born in a trap and not minding it. This trap was of his own making.  
  
It was Tony's narcissism that always made him fall into traps. No more suits, no more being a target for this or that unstable individual trying to boost their ego. No more tension, bad dreams, being seen through the filter of expectations and demands. Absolute certainty that he was perfectly able to find the solution, in no time, like he always did, no matter if in the middle of desert, in a cave, in an old garage, in the center of a worldwide crisis.

The solution for Pepper seemed to be an exception to this rule.

it was still hard to accept that it might not work this time. Each and every second spent on considering the possibility of not being as clever as everyone believed made Tony's initial idea a bit more hazy. Actually, that's what he himself believed, what else if not this? It was the core of his being, not the flashlight, getting rid of flashlight was a technicality. The reactor was just a substitute, a crutch, like the suits were, a patch for his temporarily frayed psyche. Every second spent on thinking about his most basic conviction being false removed finding the answer even further away, bit by bit, drop by drop.

Did the brilliance go away together with brilliant light after all?  
  
So in the end, Tony turned to the only person who was supposed to hear the complete story anyway, even if somehow managed to sleep trough most of it.  
  
***  
  
Moving around New York was far simpler for Bruce Banner than for rest of the team. He'd probably even be able to use the subway if not for his paranoia. People quickly forgot that not fitting into any of lifts and majority of tunnels wouldn't exactly stop the green and mean from appearing underground. Connection between slightly ratty bespectacled man and enormous mass of roaring muscle blurred even faster.  
  
Still, his presence didn't really help, but improved Tony's confidence a tiny bit. Brought back memories of shared successes. Of the battle which seemed ancient history; legendary in a way omitting most painful details and putting smallest victories into focus. Then it all circled around, back to the beginning and the topic everyone tried to avoid and considered essential at the exactly same time.

"But you know, I haven't solved my own problem and I don't need to be able to solve the one you're working on to know that they are, um, alike." Bruce's lenses got fogged over, again. Or at least amount of time he spent on wiping them indicated so. 'This disqualifies me as a prospective assistant, if you use any kind of logic. Also, me being a doctor doesn't mean doctor of medicine. Who am I even explaining that to," he sighed.

Tony wrinkled his nose, masking the incoming deluge of desperation in his most usual manner, pouring himself another drink.

"Who said I need a surgeon? Did I? I definitely did not." No point in pretending it wasn't just another distraction. "They call it a virus but it's just a matter of coding-decoding. Or rather, decoding something I myself designed while severely drunk. They were all expecting a catastrophe of year two thousand k. I knew perfectly well this is full of bullresidue, but it was just another good reason to get pickled, so I did exactly that. Thing is, I didn't care what I had left behind. Later Killian used my draft to pile all kinds of sick stuff on top of it which I don't even pretend to understand and I guess it works in my favor that I can't. I don't need Doctor Quinn. I need insight from someone who's been trying to make sense out of something that's not supposed to contain any. For years and years. Meaning, _you_."

Bruce put down his teacup, carefully. For once, his glasses were  perfectly clear, as his gaze. He looked Tony straight in the eye.

"I am starting to accept that my so called personal problem is not something that ought to be solved at all."

"So, what." Tony started at once, then, somehow managed to contain himself. Apparently genuine fondness kept improving his maturity at a much faster rate than any number of obligations.  
"Okay, fine." His voice wasn't what's usually called calm, but at least considerate. "Are you trying to say that I should leave it be and see what happens?"

"No. What I'm trying to say is, last problem of similar scale we solved together involved... extraterrestials. Your Extremis isn't like that at all, at least assuming that you're not hiding something that would cause the director a severe headache. Besides, it's not the point. I say we need a completely different perspective, one you kind of patented before, then gave up, for reasons I absolutely accept," the doctor added, in professional, slightly overeager tone.

Last syllabes of the sentence found Tony perched on the very edge of his armchair. "Let me translate that for you," he interrupted, his tone anything but calm now. "You think we should contact aliens because we're stuck in our own narrow views on science since I gave up carrying Tesseract's poorer cousin around. We ran out of Eurekas - but our friendly neighbor Vikings, because they're the only aliens we have positive experience with, can provide us with a fresh batch of those."

"This is not something we should ever consider doing, not while in our right minds." Bruce's voice was gentle, not even a shade of trembling which would've been expected from someone imagining what he didn't really need to imagine, but simply knew from experience.

"Neither of us is in is his right mind. You put Jekyll and Hyde to shame and I am terrified." Saying this, Tony didn't even blink. Somehow he got used to this thought, in the meantime. "Seriously. And you are right. It's not about inviting them over for dinner and another invasion, it's just about making a call. I am sure I can do it. If you, you know, are here. I just can't make up data from nowhere and I keep meeting with the wall again and again. There's something missing."

What answered him was only a slightly unfocused look.

"Yes, this is me being desperate. Weren't you?"

"Okay, fine." There wasn't anyone around to believe in and appreciate Banner's staged dismisiveness. Doing this kind of thing for someone exactly because - not despite there wasn't anyone to do it for him - was new. He sighed quietly, this time with resignation, not dismissal. "By the way. There's nothing in SHIELD database on that topic, at least nothing we, um, you didn't come up with earlier."

"Oh please, spill it out already."

"How did you know? But, yes. You're not the only one poking at it. This other person wants to contact Asgard for somewhat similar reasons. Her name's Jane Foster."


	2. Fracture

**II - Fracture**

  
He dreamed about Pepper, again, But it wasn't the kind of dream he'd ever wish for. Not one of those he used to have a long time ago, still hopeful then. Later, for a short while, there was no need for hope, since she was sleeping at his side. But that was before the void, before one-way trip. Before night horrors. The worst part of it was, some time after the most terrible Christmas in his life those two kinds of dreams became one. He started dreaming about Pepper with sickly glow in her eyes, her hair blown by wind that wasn't there, her skin shining. Like on the stage. It was always his, not her element, but now she was a star. A true supernova.  
  
The nightmares always ended the same way and even though he could never remember details, the exact feeling was with him all the time. The pressure, the temperature raising slowly, heat of their conversations, her forehead, her hands. Clock ticking.  
But the really worst part of it was, her losing awareness of what was truly going on.  
  
Brand new approach to the problem didn't bring any clear answers. Tony's private collection of slightly awkward physicists doubled, as their efforts and engaged resources. Terabytes of data, hours of recordings, even wildest guesses and desperate attempts at improvisation didn't help. The same, yet still indescribable element that was missing before distupted the second idea as efficienly as the first one.  
  
The Tower was Tony's home now; not that there would be any problem with getting a new one, after he got bombed out from his favourite Malibu refuge. Powered by the most efficient energy source around and spacious enough to accomodate enormous amounts of equipment, it was the most convenient. There was a small issue of safety hazard, but somehow this topic had never emerged.  
Yet more importantly, this was now the only place they built together, he and Pepper. Then rebuilt, perforce. It was history. It was his lucky charm.  
  
***  
  
For someone unaware of what was the reason behind all this, Pepper's behaviour was very easy to interpret. It was like she became infected by her partner's vigour, perpetually animated, youthful and lively and not afraid of anything. She was happy, obviously, self-assured and hopeful, rediscovering joys of life and what enthusiasm meant after extended period of stress. Finally shining with her own light, not just the reflected one.  
  
Distracted, that's how close friends described her at first. Then, impulsive, relentless. Fiery.  
  
"Do not ask me about it."  
  
There were flames underneath Pepper's carefully pronounced words, still contained, but not hidden toroughly enough. Reading people was never Tony's forte, but Pepper was another matter completely. He did a really good job at learning how to recognize her getting pissed at him. Today he'd be able to do that perfectly well even without this knowledge.  
"I didn't intend to. You know I never do that." And that was true, there was no need to ask redundand questions like, how do you feel, are you going to explode in my face anytime soon? Tony sighed. Apparently, in his fifth decade he was finally starting to get a grasp of subtlety. Also of serious, direct approach.  
  
"I never ask because that'd be cruel, considering I achieved not even a half of what I promised you," he explained, not taking his eyes off Pepper, white-clad and wandering restlessly around the apartment. It was an increasingly rare opportunity, both of them being physically present in single enclosed space, alone.  
  
"I didn't _expect_ you to. I still don't." Clipped words, sounding flat, forcibly controlled, despite all this burning.  
"I know! So what?"  
"So you do it for yourself, because breaking such a promise would be a stain on your _honor_? Somehow I can't recall you being so adamant about those matters before!"  
  
This time Pepper's voice were anything but bland, accompanied by sharp clicking of her heels. She seemed impossibly tall, wearing them.  
  
Stunned into immobility, still seated, Tony gave her unbelieving look which travelled up unwittingly.  
  
"Of course I appreciate you letting me deal with all the _important diplomacy_ , considering my _fragile state_." Smile just a tiniest fraction too warm, too open. "Watching me from safe distance makes perfect sense, allowing the experiment to be run in unpredictable conditions."  
  
This shook him out of bewilderment.  
  
"This is the job you yourself wanted. Work and vacation. You _deserved_ it."  
"With you!"  
  
It was Tony who broke eye contact and looked down, at Pepper's immaculate shoes. There was no commenting on this in a way which would be both correct and honest.  
  
"Yes, I did want this job because I assumed that's the best thing that can be done to forget about all this. For you too," she added, suddenly seeming almost like herself. Not for long. "But this went sideways, completely. It's like old times, just now you don't lock yourself up alone in basement, you do that with other people, in the attic." Her attempt at humour failed, turning into something vaguely offensive. Her heel grazed the floor with a penetrating screech. "What's also changed, I am no longer your subordinate, but you try to cut me from information anyway. You think I don't know?" Obviously, she did; somehow found out about modified routines, new investments and reorganized plans. All this to protect her, allow her to rest and do what she really wanted.  
  
Wrong call.  
  
Pepper turned around, her face no longer visible. She moved away a few overly loud steps.  
"I got used to it. Don't ask me how, but I knew from the beginning that's what was going to happen. I know how paranoid you can be and I don't really blame you, so I stayed quiet, I thought I'll play along. pretend to have fun doing mostly nothing. I didn't really have fun, but I managed. I kept it in. It's part of me now. Have you by any chance thought that I might like not being dependent? Not the one in danger?  
  
That broke the dam. Tony got to this feet, almost knocking the armchair over.  
  
"But _this_ is danger!"  
"How would _you_ know, from your own experience?  
" _Fuck_ , I was there!"  
The conversation was turning into a shouting contest with an impressive speed.  
  
"But this is me. I held _you_ together for so many years. Can't you believe that I am capable of dealing with it on my own? This thing, it's your own invention, can't you give me at least this single one? I am not like those other people. I am not damaged or traumatized or ill. I am not spiteful."  
  
Tony tried to remind himself that her fiery hair and eyes glowing like embers were nothing else but sunset, reflected and multiplied by windows of his glass tower. It was increasingly difficult, to recognize Pepper underneath all this radiance.  
  
"Now I am the one who's able to take care of myself! More than just that. Did you even know how much you can do with your own hands if you don't focus on cleaning up after catastrophes you yourself cause?" She extended her hands, palms up, but they closed into fists almost instantly, trembling. "You gave up this possibility on your own will. Did I ever ask for it? Did I?"  
"You didn't have to, this I managed to figure out myself, you know."  
Her ferocity, his sad smile, when did they become capable of those? Their reflections in full wall windows were blazing scarlet.  
  
Only one of Pepper's hands was fisted now, the other pressed flat to her neck, chain of this one special necklace she's been wearing so often recently tangled around it.  
They stared at one another for a few impossibly tense seconds.  
  
"So, yeah, I've been working with Miss and Mister Glasses and we have this idea..." It was Tony's ancient trick; giving his voice conversational tone would often help him find last scraps of zen. "We are stuck, but we made some progress in contacting the Vikingland, they'd probably help..."  
  
That's what made Pepper ultimately furious.  
"You seriously think you can cancel my whole experience of last few months, or maybe you intend to erase my memory? They certainly can do _that_!"  
  
There were two ways of dealing with this kind of argument. Open despair, or defensive sneering masking the former. Tony really should've chosen the first option, he realized it, but he was simply too much of a coward.  
  
"Was that for real? If it was, I don't recognize you anymore."  
"Because I _did_ change and you chose to look the other way while it was happening!"  
"By the way, who said that I ever wanted to take anything from you? That's what you assumed! I want to make sure that if you keep it, you will stay safe!"  
"You are _lying_!"  
  
At this point, the sun was well beyond the horizon. There was no mistaking the glow in Pepper's eyes for anything else now. Not much time to try that either. Sharp nails grazed Tony's scalp, fingers pulling his hair for a fraction of a second. Then his forehead connected with something hard and lights went off.  
  
It was half an hour later when he came round. Another half an hour and he tracked Pepper down. She admitted herself to some kind of rehab clinic, at least an expensive one, meaning, discreet.  
Two more hours and it turned out that during her most recent travel she just got back from, Pepper had a small car accident, very carefully covered. She got out of it completely unscratched, obviously. Other three people, not so much. It wasn't really that much of a problem, accidents happen and injuries were superficial. Thing is, there was no way to suffer majority of them by colliding with a truck standing still. Someone with very long, very strong fingers was involved.


	3. Harbinger

**III - Harbinger**

  
Minutes got faster. Days got longer. Not much changed.  
Pepper still didn't want to see him and Tony didn't press her.

It's him who failed and not just at finding the solution. That was just the latest face-plant in Tony's almost half-decade-long staggering through life. He was the reason behind all this, making himself the aim for the whole world's shit caused it, nothing else.  
Pepper isolating herself did not help. There was no real connection between them anymore, not of professional sort and not of private one, so Tony had to use his shrinking influence to learn anything. There wasn't much to discover anyway.  
  
He spent his birthday with, surprisingly, Natasha. She tracked him down in a bar, just like with that donut place he barely remembered anymore, ages ago. He got back home way more sober than he'd ever wish for.  
  
Spring came and went, then summer.  
  
At some point he realized that he lives in the Tower not with a team of superheroes, but with a bunch of squints more similar to Killian as he'd known him in the year two k than anyone else, Selvig popping up occasionally. It wasn't a secret anymore, what they were trying to do but apparently nobody treated it seriously at this point. Looked like everyone assumed that there was no chance of success.  
Fury probably thought that Tony finally lost it. But Natasha was still around, so there was a pretty fat chance of Sauron still keeping tabs on him. This becoming the indicator of Tony's sense of self-worth was the ultimate proof of situation becoming hopeless.  
  
Autumn started turning into series of pre-winter freezing deluges. Selvig stopped showing up. Then, a week before Halloween, he emerged again, seeming uncharacteristically jittery.  
  
***  
  
Tony was the best example of awkward crumpled nerd stereotype being very far from truth. Still, there was this special category of brilliant people who shared not just the tendency to obliviousness and hobo aesthetics. They usually knew each other, or maybe simply were unable of telling stretched jumpers apart. What mattered were ideas, not exteriors; apparently they could sniff the former out from a truly impressive distance.  
  
That's why it wasn't exactly a revelation when it turned out that Erik Selvig had been acquainted with Bruce Banner for quite awhile now. This fact made cooperation slightly easier. It was still surprising, for Erik to return voluntarily to a place which contributed to his ongoing and very evident trauma. Yet at this point, Tony was grateful for even tiniest scraps of new data, wildest guesses, weirdest suggestions, whatever kept him going.  
He was prepared for any amount of weird, courtesy of dr Selvig. What he didn't expect was the man delivering him a ready answer on a metaphorical silver platter.  
"We have exactly seventeen hours before the connection first opens," Erik said, with several folders bundled in his arms. He made a gesture as if to hand them over, then remembered himself, realizing that it'd be impossible even if Tony accepted this way of sharing data, for their immense volume. He dropped them to the kitchen floor with a sigh.  
  
Tony froze, with a coffee mug halfway to his mouth. It was seven AM, since when could he handle those things at seven AM?  
"What?"  
Since never, he could not do that, he was obviously still asleep. Already asleep. No difference.  
  
"Assuming that you use the er, biggest dish you have, that is. Are there any dishes here, anyway?" Erik looked around, as if expecting to see some on the counter or in the sink, which was entirely possible.  
In that moment the utter absurdity of situation must have reached his severely disturbed mind. He waved his hands, wincing.  
  
"No no no, I know what I'm talking about. Not plates. Dishes, saucers. _Antennae_. Whichever sort of receiver you like best."  
  
Tony put down his cup, still undecided whether it's one of his best dreams recently, or hallucination from perpetual lack of sleep. There was also about zero point two five percent chance of this happening for real.  
"Sure, let's take a look at this." He plopped to the floor, diving into the heap.  
  
Ten minutes later Tony was still sitting on the tiles, with Erik's notes quickly turning from chaotic mound of wastepaper into intricate labyrinth of ideas so ingenious they seemed completely disconnected from any known reality. That, that was exactly the point. He didn't object to being handed anything anymore. Subsequent sheets offered by Selvig fit perfectly together, making Tony's mind fill rare gaps in a way so fast and logical it was pure beauty.  
  
"I am so very sorry I didn't do that weeks ago. I couldn't. It was just, just, so very... vague back then. I had to understand it myself first."  
At this point Tony didn't mind, neither this nor Erik stealing his coffee. He kept browsing through the notes, his smile widening with every passing second.  
"Couldn't decide whether I'm starting seeing things, or really figuring them out." Selvig waved his hands, still on edge, almost dropping the cup. He put it down self-consciously and sighed, his shoulders slumping. "So this does make sense after all. I almost wish it didn't. It would mean that I lost it and you're still stuck, but at least we'd, well, be saved from a cataclysm. Sorry," he repeated.

"Oh please, stop apologizing. This convergence of yours would happen anyway, no matter anyone's issues. Because this, this is gold." Tony grinned, still amazed by brilliant scientist's job, harbinger of apocalypse or not. "Thanks to that we won't face this shitstorm completely unprepared. No offense, but with this kind of attitude _and_ method of documenting your work nobody'd believe you more than a week ago. Well, I would. Maybe. " He tapped his finger at one particularly picturesque page, scribbled over with characters looking very much like Elder Futhark. "SHIELD's outrageously skeptical towards such stuff, no matter, well, everything. Why do you think I haven't contacted them?" he asked. There was a pencil stub left in one of the folders; Tony used it to add some more scrawls to Erik's amazing math, not waiting for him to respond, his hyperactive brain already working. "No idea if it's possible to stop this Convergence from happening, but with this, we won't be alone trying. Just let me nip off a few hours before you throw it at Fury, I need to send a text to Asgard. Okay?" He looked up at Selvig, suddenly frozen, uncharacteristically frigthened.  
  
"Sure. That's why I gave it to you, didn't?" Erik slurped at last remnants of Tony's coffee. He was impossibly serene, now when the bomb was dropped.  
"Right. Fine. Thanks." Tony's anxiety dispersed in a matter of seconds, overwritten by avalanche of hypotheses immediately turning into theories turning into models turning into conclusions. He grinned and put the pencil down.  
"But how the Hell did you come up with this? I mean, the math is a masterpiece, but the initial idea, I feel my brain boiling when I look at this and it's not just any brain."  
  
Erik lost a significant portion of his freshly acquired serenity, clasping his hands tightly to stop them from shaking, with not much success.  
  
"I had a god in my head. Things just refuse to look like they're supposed to after that."  
   
At this very moment the rest of the team walked in, preventing the most awkward conversation which would inevitably lead to Tony recounting his rendezvous with the void. This could wait. Also required resupplying the bar, which would get into way of serious work that was about to start.


	4. Revelation

**IV - Revelation**

  
It took almost a year for Tony to scratch the surface of the problem that presented itself with Pepper getting infected with Extremis. Exactly ten months, three hundred and four days of waiting for Erik Selvig's epiphany. Forty three weeks and five days, or roughly three hundred and six days before Tony managed to send the first message; he wasn't sure about the last one, after so much time with no sleep at all.  
  
Twenty four hours more and they got a response. _We will look into this, my friend_. Seemed totally like they passed the phone to Thor. Tony finally dared to be hopeful, even with Pepper still in the clinic, most of the time drugged into unconsciousness. At least she was still there, even if virtually absent. What he didn't dare was to think about _who_ she was now. Who was he, to her. He never considered giving up though, not once. Not even after the next forty eight hours being basically radio silence. There was something serious going on in there, Tony was certain of it; he could sense it, no idea how or why and what the hell. It was probably just sleep deprivation.  
  
They agreed to take turns at the lab, like in good old times of Houston having problems. There were some SHIELD people engaged in the Convergence business already, but they didn't need to know about any of this; if they did, they chose not to interrupt. Tony ignored the roster, either more or less up and running, pumped up with caffeine, or unconscious, no half-measures allowed. It was Jane's turn now. She literally kicked him out after two hours of him hovering around and tripping over his own feet. Bruce led him to the common room, offered a blanket, a cup of tea and a tablet with all the necessary apps and real-time updates. It worked.  
  
***  
  
Tony apparently dozed off.

There was somebody else in the room, looking through the window, up into the night sky. Too tall to be Jane, too slender to be either Bruce or Erik.

"Pepper?"

The silhouette was exactly as it should be, lithe and graceful, but the hair was all wrong, coal-black, glossy like raven's wing. Unmistakable, even in semi-darkness.  
The stranger turned around. Tony clutched the hem of his blanket, seams creaking dangerously.

"What, of all people they sent _you_?!"  
 _Hush_ , god of mischief said, one lean finger to his smiling lips.

Either there was a Loki in Tony's living room, which was obviously awful, considering that he was a bag of vicious cats, or Tony was dreaming. This last possibility was starting to feel like a pattern. Both ways, not bad. This dream was moderately harmless comparing to some, and Loki, though crazy and adopted, still counted as an Asgardian, which was progress.

"Let us assume that everybody else is otherwise occupied. Entirely engaged in most crucial matters of diplomacy, propriety and politics. Enough not to respond immediately, unlike me." He overlooked very toroughly the issue of him being _sent_ , which explained the topic more than well enough.  
Tony sat straighter, pushing the blanket away. Not that he was afraid, at least not yet, but somehow it felt right to seem more imposing and not at all cuddly.  
"So what exactly did they do to you, to make you all cooperative and altruistic? Threatened to take your bug outfit away forever?"  
Loki snorted. In fact, he wasn't wearing any armour, just something way less fancy, vaguely blackish-greenish and lightweight enough to reveal how thin and wiry he really was. He kept wandering around the room like he owned the place, slowly closing in on Tony's couch, his expression equal parts fondness and mischief, then going suddenly blank.  
"Absolutely not. I have my very own agenda; you would never accept my help otherwise. Me being interested in your success for personal reasons is what ensures my credibility."

There were small creases in corners of Loki's eyes, his face tight, more and more details visible from still shortening distance. Something wasn't entirely right about him - something new.

"Fine, but you know, it still doesn't explain anything, because you're of no use to me anyway, being, what? A godling of lies and poor deals? I need, like, I don't know, Eir, maybe."  
Loki's eyebrows wandered up. He nodded, in what wasn't agreement, but overly elegant display of appreciation.

"Certainly, but it is not what you really want and I can see that clearly. You don't wish to heal, you must control and preserve this; after all, this is your own creation. You will need it, soon. And if you're as knowledgeable as you let everybody believe, you do realize that I am also a god of fire."

Tony sprang up from the couch, very furious and very awake, at this point absolutely certain that all this was happening for real.  
"Ah, so your business is us keeping the explosives and blowing ourselves up eventually, but on a much bigger scale and when it's convenient for _you_?"

It wasn't the same room and Loki was practically unarmed, but he was still a supreme being, while this time Tony was just a baseline human with no cool gadgets at hand.  
Also not afraid at all and _extremely_ pissed.

Tony was close enough to reach Loki's stupid lapels, to shake him, to shake all those stupid ideas out of him, also all the answers he so desperately needed. And then, to get even with him, with a little help from those impressive full wall windows.  
Loki moved away a tiny little step. Tony's fire died out. It wasn't Extremis after all, just an oldish man's anger.  
"You might as well interpret it as you just did." It was like exhaustion was contagious, with no way to tell who was its source. Both of them, most likely. "Future of mankind wouldn't really bother me, if not for one critical disadvantage. My concern is _my own future_ ; those two seem to conjugate, regrettably."

It was impossible to feign interest, not in response to this.  
There was a short moment in which the freshly conditioned air was completely saturated with Loki's shame.

"I wish to continue my existence for the foreseeable future," he said, as if it explained it all.  
It did. _Not like the last time we met_ , Tony's well-hidden voice of empathy added.

There was also the Ragnarök thing. Everything they'd learned about Asgardians seemed connected direcly with myths and tales, and this fact, once discovered, provided the key to interpreting the rest. Against his best judgment, Tony had to admit that Loki's speech made sense. It wasn't just him sounding honest, Loki's professed _credibility_ wasn't worth half a cent. But this was more, this was downright logical.

Tony Stark being quiet for an extended period of time usually surprised people into spilling all their beans. He didn't really expect to be able to intimidate anyone here, just took his time to analyse seemingly infinite versions of weird-ass Norse poems he became expert on last time Loki dropped by. Yet somehow, it worked.  
"You already proved the extent of your lore, so I dare to say this: I was certain that my most recent visit and the conflict that followed were the final ones. But no, they were just the last portent of what verges upon us all. Convergence will be the end of _everything_ , not just for you or Asgard; that's what its nature is, destroying what's vital for literal _existence_."  
"The walls between worlds will be almost non-existent. Physics is gonna go ballistic. Increases and decreases in gravity. Spatial extrusions. The very fabric of reality is gonna be torn apart."

Selvig's description was apparently vivid enough even for someone who had just a very basic understanding of twenty-first century science babble. Loki's eyes went very wide and very genuinely terrified. Fear of death was shared by all the species. Fear of everything ceasing to _be_ was apparenly familiar even to not quite sane individals, like Loki.

The godling resumed his pacing; no longer lazy, his stride sharp and restless.  
"I want no part in this. More than that, I want to... challenge my fate, to-"  
Loki stopped and turned abruptly, facing his reluctant host.  
"-deal with it," he finished, his voice just a tiniest fraction awkward.

Yes, there was a lot about Norns and Loki's contribution to Norse version of Apocalypse, ending in his own death, but before that all kinds of awful stuff was supposed to happen to him. In many aspects, those stories were mutually exclusive, but this part was always the same.

"You meant fornicate. Screw. Fuck it. In the eye." Tony offered, making a vague yet doubtlessly offensive gesture. One corner of Loki's mouth twitched. " _Sideways_."  
The godling giggled.  
"Yes, this is precisely what I had on my mind. I want to _sard_ my fate and let you win. And you, Anthony Stark, are my key to this, for you did what's needed to achieve it once already."  
Tony just kept staring. For a second he thought that nothing could surprise him more than Loki _giggling_. He was very wrong.

"I did read your file. What your father left behind was a vulgar, crude imitation of a genuine jewel that Tesseract is, but you succeeded in creating something that countervailed its power. Did you give up carrying it over your heart for the fear of it?"

This seemed very much like a legitimate question and not a badly hidden insult, so Tony reacted accordingly, still in a slight state of shock.

"Nope, I simply thought I didn't need it anymore," he answered. "I guess I can already tell what you're getting at and honestly, no idea if I like it."  
Loki shook his head with a knowing smirk, black hair brushing his shoulders. His close proximity wasn't threatening anymore, in worst case moderately disturbing, for his impressive height alone.

"You can accomplish far more than this. Humanity wasn't destined to acquire this knowledge for a long time to come, yet I very much doubt it concerns either of us. All matters considered, this is the most opportune moment. It might help to ensure your kind's prolonged existence. If it doesn't, at least you will spend your final moments accompanied by your beloved."

Tony's poker face and continued silence kept working in his favour.

"In fact, it is not that it requires me _giving_ you anything. You already possess it, you merely lack the realisation. It seems to me that you already accepted this possibility, _liking_ it or not." The godling tilted his head, still smiling. "You only need a... push. This is what I am here for."  
"Let's get this over with, then," Tony croaked, not really convinced about anything, but intrigued - and desperate enough.

Loki leaning over him, his fingertips skimming over the exact spot where the reactor once was didn't feel half as horrifying as Tony would've ever expected. Quite unlike last time, either - not a sharp blow and obviously no clinking sound. Actually, he barely felt anything, mostly neurons going haywire and generating illusory tingling.

"Don't do anything you'd regret," he gave Loki a half-hearted warning, his mind flooded with what was a very close relative of tip-of-the-tongue feeling.  
"What about you?" the god asked.  
"Nah, never."  
"Are we discussing _doing_ or _regretting_?"  
"Go figure."

There were galaxies expanding, chasing one another and then burning out underneath Tony's closed eyelids. Entirely present at last and quite probably kissing him, Loki wasn't really an issue, just a rather nice added value.  
 _That_ wasn't what Tony thought the conversation was about but somehow, exactly what he expected.  
  
Precisely twenty-two seconds later Jane Foster stormed in to announce that she's just made a direct, real-time contact with Asgard.  
"Yeah, I know," Tony said, tapping at the reactor's cover that wasn't there, but he could feel the warm glow underneath.  
He could only hope that Loki won't express his resentment for getting disposed of so abruptly in any particularly nasty way.


	5. Ardor

**Epilogue - Ardor**

  
Tony did master direct approach indeed. Some people wouldn't be very happy about that, especially not those responsible for integrality of Pepper's refuge. Breaking into rehab clinic wasn't something even he could pull off without any onsequences. Still, he was willing to face whatever mess would follow, methods engaging lawyers and procedures always took way too long. Nothing could be worse than being late, failing again, now when he knew exactly what needs to be done.  
  
The glow was still there, no longer obscured by Pepper's trademark iron will; merely blurred by whatever drug was circulating in her bloodstream. Lightening up, then fading momentarily. Still destructive, but no longer alien nor terrifying. She was so very right back then, months ago - it was a gift of a kind, given by the wrong person and way too early, at the wrong time and place, in totally awful circumstances, but it belonged to her from the very beginning. It was simply imperfect and Tony finally knew how to make it right.  
  
"Hi," he said, because despite changing into something he still couldn't find proper name for, he was notoriously poor with words which were supposed to have important meanings.  
  
"You still complete me, you know?" It wouldn't be long before Tony was discovered, but he took a moment to sit next to her. Pepper stayed motionless, though her inner fire rekindled at once. She was not healthy, yet not permanently damaged and definitely not spiteful, he could tell that for sure now.  
"Thanks so much for doing this. I know, it sounds ridiculous but it's true, you were always the genuinely brilliant one, no cool gadgets needed to prove it. You bought me enough time by coming here and this is why... why I can help you now."  
His voice broke, but it wasn't needed anymore, single embrace and billions of stars he shared with her were enough to turn blazing inferno into hearth's warmth.  
  
***  
  
Of course Pepper had changed too, again, Tony would never expect anything else. That was besides the point, this change was not lethal and he absolutely believed in _dum spiro, spero_.  
  
She would take active part in whatever was going to happen in a few days, there was no doubt. Each pair of hands and each brilliant mind counted, and Pepper, being scorching hot, was priceless. That would be dangerous, of course, but equally important.  
  
He didn't need the reactor nor the armour to be Iron Man, nor Pepper, to survive, but he needed her to be the self he learned to appreciate, still faulty and not quite mature, but able to learn and grow.  
  
There was also an issue of a certain god, of mischief, cool curses and smokin'. Somehow it was hard to believe that his _sarding the fate_ business was over. Tony very much expected Loki to appear at some point, with intention of expressing his opinion about the way in which they parted, if nothing else. Honestly, he couldn't wait; he was also sure that considering all the recent changes, it would turn out all right for everybody, this way or another.  
He definitely had a type - tall, fiery and more clever than he himself was.  
  
***  
  
A week later Dark Elves were still lurking in the shadows, asleep, waiting. Asgardians struggled with understanding their newly discovered place in the universe, which had nothing to do with the divine. Erik Selvig worked on smuggling a young SHIELD operative into the Tower with not much opposition from its owner. Said owner was otherwise occupied and not complaining.

The world failed at ending, once again.

**Author's Note:**

> Seems that I might have to wait until next year for the story to be added to the collection, so I decided to publish it as it is. Happy New Year, everyone :)


End file.
